


For enemies...

by Nitwit_Blubber_Oddment_and_Tweak



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Bonding, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-19 01:03:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15498834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitwit_Blubber_Oddment_and_Tweak/pseuds/Nitwit_Blubber_Oddment_and_Tweak
Summary: Sectumsempra was always meant for enemies, but not in the way everyone thought.When Harry curses Draco with it in the bathroom, everyone assumes it's just a cutting spell- except for Snape, who knows.When and how will Harry and Draco find out what it really does? And what happens when it's bigger than either of them expect?





	1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

 

 

Draco turned just in time to see the haunting green light race across the space between Potter and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

He felt hope.

He felt desperation.

He felt.... excruciating, blinding pain.

 

A wail went up, full of frenzied screams and groans and grunts of pain.

Draco's arm was on fire. It hurt to breathe, each torturous breath was an orchestra of pain within him.

He was looking up at his mother's face, not understanding the angles. Everything was wrong, everything was off somehow. It was like gravity had readjusted itself without his permission.

This must be the cost of having taken the mark, he thought to himself. This was the cost of saving my mother.

Draco closed his eyes and gave up his life, thankful he'd been able to save hers.

 

 

\--------------------------------------

He'd done it. Voldemort had fallen, and Harry'd been the one to do it.

He should have felt triumph. He should've felt relief. He should've felt- so many things.

All he felt was loss, pain, anguish.

And then something sparked inside of him, and his chest was on fire.

There was no sensation of falling. No recognition of success. Nothing.

 

Harry laid, still and unmoving where he'd collapsed.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter One

Draco's eyes opened to an expanse of white. Small muscles began to awaken is painful lurches as he moved slowly to sit up, looking around him. A slow roll of his neck back and from one side to the other to loosen up his stiff neck was just the thing before he began taking stock of his surroundings. He hadn't imagined being dead to look quite so much like he was in St. Mungo's.

The white duvet unfolded from his legs as he pulled it back and slipped quietly out of the bed, attempting to hobble over to the door.

LOUD, blaring monitoring charms went off when all of Draco's weight left the bed. His heart raced and adrenaline filled him as he ducked down, only to fall onto the floor as his muscles hadn't fully awoken yet.

"Mr. Malfoy, please you shouldn't be out of bed yet!" a young orderly said in a soft state of panic. Her hair was strawberry blonde and pulled back in a bun that would make McGonagall proud. Her eyes were round as saucers as she looked at him, sprawled there, trying her best to help him back up.

"Am I to be confined to bed for eternity then?" Draco grumbled softly, attempting to help her while she navigated him back to his feet.  
She laughed softly. Her feet shuffled softly and she moved about the room, turning off the various charms and stopping the flashing of the lights with small, concise flicks of her wand.  
"I'm sure it feels like that, Mr. Malfoy- but it will only be a little while longer."

"So- I'm not dead?" Draco's eyes fluttered shut as he began to wonder what world laid outside of this room. What had happened. He supposed Voldemort must not have had to face Potter's Avada Kedavra, since Draco himself was being well cared for at St. Mungo's. His father must be dancing a bloody jig by now. His poor mother was locked into a further eternity with the man Draco had once revered who was now nothing more than a simpering twit for the Dark Lord. He'd have to look and seem every bit the noble bloodline he was when he got out of this bed again. As he thought that, he realized he ought to lay back down. His head felt heavy and his chest was beginning to flame.

“Oh Merlin- I’d hope not, otherwise I’d be out on my arse, and I only just managed to eke into this job with an E on my Herbology NEWT. As it is, they’re shortstaffed with all of the injuries and trauma patients- that’s the only reason I’ve got such a high profile patient as you under my care, Mr. Malfoy I do hope when you’re all set to go home you’ll leave a glowing comment card on your way out.” Her eyes shined with her amusement.

"Can I get something for the pain?" Draco’s fingers were burrowing their way through his hospital robe to attempt to soothe his chest. He pulled the robe down enough to see the spot that hurt.

It was strange. Nothing *seemed* different, but there was a very serious pain in and on his upper right chest. He ran his fingers over the area, feeling the puckering of the line of the scar he’d received that fateful day in the bathroom, facing down Perfect Potter. Well, if the Dark Lord had won- he’d never have to think about Potter again.

The nurse had escaped to the hallway and when she returned with his potion, he pulled his fingers away from the scars quickly. He hadn’t been stroking them and thinking of Potter like he’d used to. Of course not, that was preposterous. He wouldn’t even allow the thought to cross his mind.

He took the potion from her thankfully and swilled it in one go. It tasted like cherries and cream. It was a good one. He knew now that the Dark Lord definitely won the duel with Potter. He wouldn’t be receiving preferential treatment if Potter had survived. Severus had- he frowned when he thought of Severus, sadness creeping into place yet again- and shook himself out of it. Severus had taught him as a small boy the difference between a good healing potion and a bad one. All the best healing potions had fruit flavors. It meant that it had vitamins, and something to help ease the anxious nerves that came with pain. This was definitely a good potion.

"How long have I been here?"

"Oh, only about two weeks. Pretty good as things are going around here. And you've got a private room, so that must be nice for you."

"Two weeks? What on earth happened that I've been out for two bloody weeks?"

"We magically induced a coma while your body healed from the unintended consequences of the bond transference," her gaze softened as she giggled softly, "You're lucky too- to be saved by Him. I'd give anything to be bonded to Him." Her eyelashes fluttered as she simpered on while the words hit Draco like a ton of bricks.

"B- bonded?" His posture stiffened and he flushed.  
"Bonded to WHOM, EXACTLY?" He was starting to feel not only enraged, but dizzy.  
She pushed him to lay back and ran her wand over his forehead while she smiled, "Why, Harry Potter, of course."


	3. Chapter 3

****There are moments when the world feels like too much.

Where everything around you is perfectly normal, but it almost feels like life has… shifted 3 degrees to the right.

When your throat is too tight for you to breathe properly, your heart beating properly for the machines but inside your chest it feels like it’s battering its way through your ribcage with a sledgehammer.

Moments when despite multiple people being in your face and discussing your problems- you have noone to talk to about the very problems they’re analysing.

 

Ginny’s face was too close. Her voice was too shrill. Her hair was too bright. She smelled... off. The Burrow was too full of people fawning over Harry as they distracted themselves from their grief. It was too much.

 

The fresh mark on his chest had been rolling wave after wave of pain through him. His forehead hadn’t hurt in hours though.

 

“Perhaps it’s a reaction to something?” Arthur thought out loud in the midst of a jumble of voices.

 

“That’s ridiculous, perhaps it’s an after effect of a Cruciatus that Harry didn’t notice?” Charlie put out for opinions.

The discussion went on and on around him and Harry couldn’t take it anymore. He stood, silently- and despite everyone talking about him and gesturing at him, noone noticed when he walked outside to the cool night air.

  


They did notice the loud CRACK as he Disapparated, but he didn’t notice that.

 

Harry arrived in the middle of the battlefield where he’d stood when he faced Voldemort for the final time. It wasn’t where he’d meant to go.

 

CRACK.

 

Again, Harry stood on the same spot.

He couldn’t get it out of his head. His entire bloody life had led up to this battle- and now that it was over, he still couldn’t be free of it, even for a moment.

 

He walked his way up the road, through the wards that felt like brittle paper streamers over his skin, as tattered and useless as they were.

 

Standing in front of Hogwarts he felt small again.

Very small, and not just in size- but in importance as well.

He picked his way through the rubble, finding himself standing, finally- in the ruined entrance hall.

 

Curse stains on the walls and floors. Spell singes on the- well, everything. Blood.

They’d already bustled all of the lost out of the school and the field, but the blood had been left where it lay.

 

His breath caught in his throat as he saw one of the Hogwarts house elves scuttling towards him. It reached him at speed, but offered no words.

The house elf took his hand gently and walked him to the kitchens.

Harry followed along trying not to think of what new horrible way he could be led to his death.

 

A cup of tea was waiting. The kitchens had sustained minimal damage, he supposed.

Cup of tea in his hands, the elves started coming in from various places around the kitchen. Walking silently and unobtrusively towards him, to sit by him and lend strength and comfort in their presence.

 

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes and he looked at the ceiling to keep them in. A small hiccough sent one spilling over the edge, and the rest followed.

His body racked with silent sobs as he stayed seated in the overstuffed chair they'd pushed him into and still the elves stayed.

Until, that is- a voice sounded into the quiet, “May I have a moment with Harry, if it’s all right?”

Harry shot up startled, hand on his wand, trying to find the source of the voice. Panic alighted on his frame, but his mind was resigned to whatever had come to kill him now.

 

He placed the voice as the elves started to file away, just as quietly as they’d arrived. Save for one, that is. The one who’d walked him here.

 

“Grimby, I can see you’d rather stay. I’d welcome a bit of a frame dusting, if you wouldn’t mind?”

The house elf nodded vigorously as Dumbledore smiled gently. He looked back to Harry as Grimby dusted his frame.

“How is your scar? I’d supposed it would go away when Voldemort was killed. Was I right?”

 

Harry grunted and lifted his bangs. He hadn’t thought to check. He hadn’t known it was a possibility.

 

“Ah, I see that it is indeed, still there. However- it appears to lack a magical signature anymore. So perhaps- that is good news?” Dumbledore surmised.

 

“Does that mean he’s gone, Professor?" Harry's voice broke, "Or is there YET ANOTHER WAY he can manage to *cling* to life for me to find him and defeat him yet again? I don’t think I have another life to give, Professor. I can’t BELIEVE you led me to this. All those years. I trusted you. I-” he crumbled as Grimby rushed back to his side. His voice refused to come out.

 

“I see the Severus did as he was asked. I must say, I am chagrined by this course Harry- but it was for the greater good. I knew you would come to understand in time. I knew you were the only one strong enough to do what must be done.” Dumbledore settled into a rocking chair in his portrait.

A loud squeak sounded as the chair rocked onto a rubber duck.

 

Tension broke and Harry felt a small bubble of manic laughter float up from deep within him. It burst forth from his lips and he laughed while sobbing until he was curled on the floor. He quieted as he tired, and then fell soundly asleep on the floor, surrounded once more by the house elves who’d watched over him during his youth more than his mentor.

Dumbledore studied him sadly as he slept for a few minutes before Grimby, who’d been monitoring Harry’s breathing to see when he was fully asleep- wandered over to the portrait, looked up at Dumbledore defiantly, and flipped the portrait to face the wall.

 

Harry slept the whole night through, dreamlessly for the first time in years. Surrounded by magic, home, and quiet comfort. The elves warded the kitchen from anyone and anything and watched over him as he slept.


	4. Chapter 4

“I haven’t a clue as to the password, but I’d like to speak to Professor Dumbledore, please,” Harry stated loudly to the statue.

The door opened and the staircase spiraled up to the tower once Harry alighted upon it.

The door at the top stood open, light streaming out in dusty waves from the windows set about the large room.

 

“My dear boy, I daresay I hadn’t thought you’d be ready to talk to me again so soon. Please, sit, and tell me what I can do for you today?” Dumbledore had stepped into the portrait opposite his- well, the Headmaster’s- desk.

 

“I’m sorry Professor, for yelling at you. I didn’t- I mean, I don’t…” Harry sighed and sank into the chair behind the large wooden desk, pulling his feet up and hugging his knees to himself.

 

Dumbledore sat on the chaise lounge that had been painted into this portrait for him and stayed silent, waiting for Harry to continue whenever he felt he was ready.

 

Harry fiddled about with the drawers on the desk while attempting to puzzle out his words.

 

“So what happens now, Professor?”

 

Dumbledore’s forehead creased and he put a finger up to his lips while he thought before answering.

“Well, Harry- I hadn’t planned this far ahead. There’s no more ‘path’ as it were. This is all you now. Though, I do suppose you should heal now. Take time for yourself and learn what you want from life.”

 

Harry supposed this sounded wise, but it felt- wrong to be aimless for the first time in his life. He’d had chores and staying silent at the Dursleys, he’d had homework and Voldemort ever since. What did he have now?

 

“The only thing left to heal is whatever this is on my chest. As for what to do now- how am I supposed to figure that out? Is there a Sorting Hat for job placement?” The last question was really just a wish rather than a wonder, but wouldn’t that have been better? He was beginning to think about how he’d probably still have to know what he wanted, given his own experiences with the Sorting Hat for houses and realized perhaps it was a stupid idea.

 

“What mark, my boy? Might I see?”

Harry nodded and pulled up his jumper. The scar looked like he’d been struck by lightning rather than looking like a lightning bolt. It was angry and red and hot to the touch. 

 

“Ah. I had hoped this wouldn’t come to pass, but it appears, Harry- that you do perhaps have one more plan to follow through on- though this one is, I fear, of your own doing. Severus?” Dumbledore called as he wandered from portrait to portrait in the office.

 

“What, you insufferable old fool, do you want NOW?” Snape’s voice filtered down to his ears as he watched Dumbledore drag him into the large frame after finding him hidden away towards the bottom of the stacks near the pensieve. 

 

Harry supposed he’d seen the Fat Lady blush a time of two when Seamus had snuck some firewhisky and flirted with her, so he wasn’t sure why he was so surprised a portrait could pale as much as Snape did in that moment.

 

“Merlin have mercy on that boy. As if he didn’t have a poor enough lot in life-” Severus began muttering and Harry was confused. Snape sounded angry at him AND for him? He didn’t know what to think, and suddenly Snape finished loudly with a, “But now it’s even worse because he’s bonded to YOU, you unthinking, careless, man-child with a hero complex.”

 

“Wait- bonded? Who? How? WhAT?” Harry stood quickly from the chair, unable to understand what was going on.

 

“It appears that your connection to the Dark Lord is gone. Congratulations, Mr. Potter. And congratulations on your belated bonding. I’ll send a card to the Malfoy residence, shall I?” Snape practically spat at him. “This is your fault, Potter.”

 

Harry held his hands up at the surprising amount of venom in Snape’s voice. He turned to look at Dumbledore- hoping for clarification, but Dumbledore had seen fit to climb into a tub still life that had been painted with fairies and nargles and seemed rather oblivious to the goings on.

 

“I don’t understand, what bonding?!” Harry was becoming hysterical and felt himself starting to panic. Grimby popped in at this moment and helped him sit back down and offered him a cup of tea and a biscuit.

 

“Sectumsempra. For enemies. I should know, I authored the curse, Mr. Potter. It’s a modified bonding and marking spell. I didn’t think it had taken, since Draco was able to take the Dark Mark. But it appears to have taken now. So yes- the Malfoy heir and all that is his now belong to you. Don’t you feel HAPPY about this change in your station? Glory-seeking imbecile.”

 

“Malfoy? DRACO Malfoy?” Harry’s hands weren’t up to the task of holding the cup and saucer and he placed them down before him on the desk.

 

“It seems I must carry on this entire conversation by myself. Yes, Potter. Draco Malfoy. Whom you cursed in the bathroom whilst he was crying. Who didn’t have a Saviour to turn to for help since you rejected every attempt at friendship that ever came your way. Since you showed more prejudice against Slytherin than Draco’s entire family held towards Muggleborns. You cursed him to become your SLAVE, Mr. Potter. Don’t you feel a hero now?”

 

Grimby stayed silent by Harry’s side, and took Harry’s hand in his own, sending waves of calming magic as he’d done every night since Harry first came to Hogwarts.

 

“I put together an innocuous version of Imperius with a bonding spell and a marking spell. It was meant to make someone loyal to you, and do your bidding not by force, but by need and want. I’d been forced to during the early days after I took the Mark and then defected to become a spy. And you- you used it on a defenseless boy.”

 

Snape was practically vibrating with rage and disgust in his portrait.

 

“You’d better be damned good to that boy. He doesn’t deserve to be cursed with you for the rest of his life. I’m glad you killed the Dark Lord, Potter. But I’m disgusted that curse lay in wait for when the stronger Mark was gone and now he’s bound to you.”

 

Dumbledore laughed at something Harry couldn’t see, splashing away and called down to Grimby for some lemon drops. Grimby picked up the bowl of lemon drops, glared at Dumbledore and poured them onto the floor.

 

“You’ll need to research this. Perhaps you’d better let Draco do it, since you haven’t got two wits to rub together. In the Room of Requirement is the original book I placed my notes in for Sectumsempra. Bring Draco, he’ll do a far sight better than you at understanding the arithmancy and runes involved in the creation of the curse. Perhaps he can work out a way to break it. If not, perhaps he’ll just have to finally kill you to be free. Ask the room for the forgotten library.”

 

Snape turned on his heel wand walked out of the portrait.

 

Harry looked up to Dumbledore to see that he was having a fight with an erumpent in the portrait whilst wearing a fuzzy pink bathrobe. Harry cut his losses and decided to go home. The wards were down so he disapparated to Grimmauld place.

 

CRACK.

 

He put his hand out to clench the doorknob before noticing that he, once more- stood on the battlefield.

He screamed his frustration into the night, then walked to Hogsmeade and borrowed Rosmerta’s floo.

 

Hermione collided bodily with him as her tumbled out of the fireplace as she rushed up to him.

“Harry! Where’ve you been? Are you alright? What happened? Where did you go?” Words tumbled from her mouth as she couldn’t figure out what question to ask first.

 

“I’m alright. I went to check on something. I’m sorry I worried you ‘Mione. Listen- I need to know what happened to Draco Malfoy. I know you’re going to ask why, but I need the answers first and I’ll explain later. It’s important.”

 

Hermione’s brow crinkled with worry as she replied, “St. Mungo’s secure ward, Harry- for the Death Eaters that are injured. The rest are either dead or in holding cells at the Ministry. What’s-”

 

“Thanks!” Harry cut her off and raced to the floo, “St. Mungo’s!” he shouted into the flames and jumped headfirst.

 

Jumping headfirst seemed to have been a good thing, because for once, Harry landed on his feet on the other side. He raced up to the reception desk, shouting out- ‘Secure Ward, please. Now.”

 

Her eyes widened to the size of tea saucers as she could do nothing more than point him in the proper direction. The small ball of light led him at speed to his destination.

 

Several sets of locked doors seemed to open without  the usual Auror methods as Harry raced through them, his magic sending out bursts ahead of him. Aurors flocked after him, securing the breach.

 

“Draco Malfoy, take me to him,” he demanded as a Healer came into sight.

 

The words the Healer jumbled out of his mouth- a mixture of agreement and thanks and shock and awe, fell on deaf ears as Harry held a singleminded focus of getting to Malfoy.

 

He came to the door and his chest stopped burning as he pulled up short. All of his worst fears of Snape telling the truth seemed to be right, and his head thumped against the glass of the door through which Draco Malfoy could be seen- bloodied, bruised, and in a healing coma.


	5. Chapter 5

The Healer’s head alighted upon Harry’s shoulder, who startled out of his stare with his wand flying after his hand.

 

Healer Corner startled and jerked back, holding his hands up in supplication, “Mr. Potter- I didn’t mean to startle you, I’m sorry.” The Aurors were fanned out, torn between guarding the prisoner Harry was staring at so intently and thanking Harry Potter.

“I’m not going to hurt him, but I’d like to enter please. Is that okay?”

 

“I don’t give a care if yeh do harm ‘im Mr. Potter. S’your right as the Saviour. Findin’ and dealin’ wif Death Eaters innit?” A short, grizzled Auror said loudly as the others looked somewhat uncomfortably around. He was a little taller than Harry, but not by much, and wore a cloak that had obviously seen recent use in the field.

 

Harry turned on his heel to face the Auror, “I see. Thank you, Auror- what’s your name?”

 

The Auror beamed at him, “Auror Docherty, Mr. Potter. So honored to meet yeh. You’re a right hero yeh are.”

 

“Auror Docherty,” Harry took a step closer, “would you mind telling me how long you’ve been guarding Death Eaters here at St. Mungo’s?” another step closer.

 

“Uhm, ah- all day now, Mr. Potter.” the short man took a small step back as he could feel Harry’s wild magic crackling.

 

“And tell me, Auror Docherty- where you were stationed before that?” Another step.

 

“Azkaban, Mr. Potter,” Auror Docherty was torn between looking proud and attempting not to show that Harry’s magic was licking at him angrily.

 

“And tell me- Auror Docherty- what makes you think your job here isn’t to PROTECT the Death Eaters?” Harry took another step as Auror Docherty backed into the wall.

 

“I- I- I…” he stammered, trying to find breath around Harry’s magic.

 

“Right.” Harry stood nose to nose with Auror Docherty and waved his wand, thinking with all his might of the strongest emotion and thought with him right now- of this situation and his anger and pushed forth his Patronus from his wand. The light of it was blinding as he turned to it and said, “For Kingsley Shacklebolt- Auror Docherty allowing possible threats to come into contact with patients in the secure ward at St. Mungo’s. Request immediate suspension, and rotation of other Aurors who said nothing. Full pensieve testimony will be filed upon request.”

 

The stag burst forth from the corridor and through Draco’s room before alighting through the wall to rush to Kingsley.

 

Auror Docherty was attempting to side-step Harry and get away when two other Aurors came to their senses and grabbed his wand from it’s holster and binding his hands and feet.

 

Harry nodded and pushed Docherty into a nearby chair.

 

“Right- now, I’m going in, with Healer Corner’s permission, I hope- to see my bonded mate. Would any of you like to do your job and check my credentials?” Harry looked at Healer Corner who nodded, seeming thankful that Auror Docherty wouldn’t be wandering his halls menacingly anymore.

 

Another Auror- one who’d confiscated Docherty’s wand, reached up with his wand and a small, “If I may?” and ran a scan of Harry’s wand, before confirming that the Saviour was indeed bonded to the Death Eater laying on the other side of the doors. He paled and glanced at Docherty before glancing back to Harry. “Mr. Potter, I want you to know that I was on a separate rotation, and will gladly give testimony to the treatment of certain high profile Death Eater patient’s treatment at the hands of Auror Docherty.” Several others nodded and feel in line with that statement, each attempting to talk over the others to make sure Harry knew they personally, hadn’t been responsible for the misdoings of Docherty.

 

“Enough. I expect each of you to present evidence to whomever Kingsley Shacklebolt chooses as head of this investigation. If there’s anything I detest- it’s a person that takes advantage of and abuses those under his care.” Harry walked back to Malfoy’s door and pressed his hand against the glass before turning back one last time. “Keep it quiet, people are healing in here.”

 

Harry pushed the door open quietly before padding softly into the room and letting the door snick closed behind him.

 

Healer Corner followed him in and pulled Malfoy's chart from it's sticking charm on the end of the bed.

"Your partner has been placed into a healing coma, Mr. Potter. It seems that the stress of losing his bond with the Dark Lord while already having another set to take place was too much for him. He's malnourished, as you can see. His levels also suggested a huge drain on his magical core over the period of months. I think, Mr. Potter- that your bond with him, even while overlapped with another- was the only thing keeping Mr. Malfoy alive."

The Healer looked at Harry with kind eyes, "Mr. Potter, have you seen a Healer yet?"

"Madame Pomfrey was taking care of people on the field and deserved a break. I'm not seriously injured. Not enough to take the time of Healers needed elsewhere."

"Be that as it may, Mr. Potter- if you'll permit me, we'll move you and your partner to a different room? So you may be seen to as well, without leaving your bonded."

Harry nodded at Healer Corner, who moved out of the room at speed to set it up.

 

He sat at the foot of Malfoy’s bed and stared.


End file.
